


Te Absolvo

by Sihaya Black (beledibabe)



Category: due South
Genre: DS, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-20
Updated: 2006-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-02 02:37:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beledibabe/pseuds/Sihaya%20Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Fraser goes undercover this time?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Te Absolvo

**Author's Note:**

> This is for chickwriter, because she needed something smutty and slightly kinky. Many thanks go to kassrachel and brooklinegirl for their betas, especially brooklinegirl, who insisted on ramping up the kink. She's the one who improved the story immeasurably.

“Bless me, Father, for I am about to sin.”

The heavy door closed silently behind him and he locked it with a quiet snick, his eyes never leaving the figure seated at the desk across the shadowed room.

“Ray?” The man at the desk shot to his feet, face pale against the severe black of his clerical collar and shirt.

When Ray had spotted him earlier, standing in the distance on the church steps, he’d hardly taken in the collar and the black clothes. Now he couldn’t help but stare. Undercover as a priest? For Christ’s sake, who was he kidding?

At one point, six months ago, he would’ve found it kinky. Now he didn’t know whether to laugh or hit something.

The desk chair rolled back and banged into the wall. “Ray, how did you--”

“Get in?” Ray grinned lopsidedly, and held up a credit card.

He shook his head. “Find me.”

Ray’s grin vanished. “You thought I couldn’t find you, Ben? That I wouldn’t look for you when you disappeared off the face of the earth?” He took a step forward, his scuffed boots sinking into the thick carpet. “Well, you thought wrong.” His hands hurt; unclenching his fists took more effort that he expected, like breaking rigor on a corpse.

A corpse. Dead. He’d felt dead for so long--four, five months now? He’d lost track. The contrast with how he felt at this very moment, with Ben standing in front of him, made his head swim. His heart beat painfully in his chest, every nerve end tingled. He took a deep, shuddering breath; a drowning man coming back to life.

Given another chance.

“Ray, you shouldn’t be--”

Ray covered the distance between them in half-a-dozen steps. “Shut up.” He rounded the desk, needing to touch, to make sure Ben was really there in front of him, not dead in some gritty alley.

Ben opened his mouth, but Ray was fast. One hand clamped over Ben’s lips, the other gripped his shoulder. Ray leaned forward, inhaled the faint scent of aftershave, felt his taut skin relax a little from Ben’s warmth.

“Don’t say a fucking word.”

Keeping one hand over Ben’s mouth, Ray released his shoulder and fumbled in the pocket of his leather coat. Ben stared at him, eyes wide, breath hot against Ray’s palm, frozen in place. He didn’t move until Ray had one cuff around his wrist, and then Ben struggled once, twisting in Ray’s hard grasp. Suddenly Ben went limp, as if he were giving up--or giving in--and within seconds Ray had him bent over the desk, wrists joined at the small of his back. The metal cuffs glinted in the lamplight.

“Ray,” he panted, twisting his hands in the cuffs, “I couldn’t--”

Ray fumbled in his other pocket. “I said no talking.” He pulled out a clean bandana and shoved it into Ben’s mouth. “Just... Don’t.” His voice broke, and he took a step back, clumsily wiping his eyes with his jacket sleeve.

Ben lay quiet, bent over the desk, hands and face and shiny handcuffs providing the only relief to the stark black of his shirt and trousers.

Ray licked his lips and reached out, his fingers slipping through the heavy wave of hair over Ben’s forehead. He stroked Ben’s hair for a moment, watching Ben’s eyelids flutter and close. Heard a soft moan.

If his heart wasn’t already in pieces, it would have broken right then.

“You left.” The words were faint as a breath, but Ben stiffened under his hand. Thick black lashes dipped, covered those blue eyes. In the harsh lamplight, Ray could see the color washing over Ben’s cheeks, could feel the heat radiating from his face.

He leaned down and kissed Ben’s warm cheek.

Ben’s eyes snapped open.

“You never let me say goodbye.” Ray’s fingers slid through Ben’s hair, smoothly circumscribing the arc of his skull, teasing the short hair at the nape of his neck, slipping beneath the high collar. Ben’s skin was hot against his chilled fingertips, damp and so fucking soft.

“I got home and you were gone, you and all your stuff, like you’d never been there. No one would tell me anything, but I thought you’d find some way to let me know...” Ray’s throat tightened. He turned away, rested his head against the wall. He’d thought all kinds of crazy things when Ben had disappeared, thoughts he’d never tell anyone, ever. But he’d never given up, and now here he was, ready to make things as right as he could. He straightened, turned back. “Guess I thought wrong.”

Ben’s eyes widened and he tried to speak through the bandana, but nothing emerged except muffled grunts.

Ray watched for a moment, surprised at how much he wanted to hear Ben’s voice again. But then Ben would explain, and he’d be so fucking reasonable and sane and logical that Ray would storm out the door and everything he’d given up--job, apartment, life--would still be gone, and he wouldn’t have done what he came here to do, and that would leave Ray with nothing, nada, zilch.

The only thing to do then would be to call it quits and put a bullet through his brain.

But Ben wasn’t shutting up. He kept grunting around the bandana, still trying to get through to Ray.

Ray almost laughed. Of course Ben wouldn’t give up. Now that Ray had tracked him down, he wouldn’t just let Ray do what he needed to do. No, Ben would keep trying until Ray either ungagged him or threw up his hands and left in frustration.

Feeling as if he were letting the genie out of the bottle, Ray pulled the bandana from Ben’s mouth, tossing it into the trashcan beside the desk.

Ben’s lips moved and he swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, Ray.” Croaky, but understandable. “I wanted to--”

“But you didn’t.”

That shut him up. Ray was feeling just mean enough to enjoy the flash of hurt in Ben’s eyes.

He moved behind Ben and leaned over his broad, warm back. He put his mouth beside Ben’s ear and continued softly. “No phone call to give me a hint that you wouldn’t be there when I got back. No postcard with a secret message to say you remembered me. Nothing. I thought you were dead.” He snapped out the last word, afraid his voice would catch the way it always did whenever he said it. Ben’s hands twisted in the cuffs, brushing against--

Damn.

Ray squeezed his eyes shut as Ben’s fingers traced the length of his hardening cock. Jesus fucking Christ, he’d missed the feel of Ben’s hands, missed his smell, missed the granite solidity that hid a heart as fragile as Ray’s.

His fingers clenched Ben’s shoulders and he shook his head. Fuck talking. Fuck everything he was planning to say. He needed this. They needed this.

He mouthed the back of Ben’s neck, collar and skin and soft, short hair, licking along the edge of the collar until the cotton darkened, grew damp, and Ben shifted beneath him.

“Ray. Please.” Rough and breathless, a voice so damned familiar. A voice he’d dreamed about, a voice he thought he’d never hear again.

He reached around Ben’s waist, fumbling a little because he was out of practice, unbuttoning and unzipping and pushing through layers of wool and cotton until his fingers touched skin. His Ben was there, underneath the priestly disguise. Ray had found the man again, just as he had discovered Ben beneath Fraser’s uniform over a year ago.

Ben gasped, his breath coming out in deep, shuddering gusts, his cock hard and damp in Ray’s hand. Ray pushed his hips against Ben’s ass, groaning with pleasure and frustration, his cock separated from Ben’s smooth skin by his jeans and Ben’s trousers.

“You miss this?” Ray pushed again, felt Ben flex his ass, stroked him tightly. “You want this?”

Ben’s hands, still pinioned by the cuffs, grasped the air. “I missed you,” he panted. “I want you.”

Ray bit his lip to keep from coming right then and there. “You got me,” he whispered, his voice rough. He jerked Ben’s trousers and boxers down to his knees, running his hands over back and ass and thighs, his own knees shaking so much that he dropped to the floor.

Ben’s skin was pale, paler than he remembered. Hands and lips relearned the contours of Ben’s body, became reacquainted with texture and taste. Ben groaned when Ray nipped the curve of his ass, and cried out as Ray opened him wide and licked a rough stripe between his cheeks.

Ray licked again and again, until Ben lifted his head and shoulders from the desk, straining against the cuffs.

“Ray! Oh, Christ!”

Heart stuttering at Ben’s curse, Ray squeezed his eyes closed. He’d done it. He’d broken through, made Ben forget who and what he was supposed to be. Made him remember who he was.

Struggling to his feet, Ray scrabbled in his pockets until he found the tube he’d placed there months ago, back when he’d thought a week was a long time to search. Jeans and underwear were pushed down, and he forced himself to carefully smooth on the lube. He’d given up everything for this moment and would do this right, damn it.

Ben chanted Ray’s name under his breath, as if he had to say it, as if he couldn’t stop saying it, couldn’t say it enough after all this time.

One hand clasping Ben’s hip, Ray guided his cock home, hissing as the head pressed against Ben, slowly, so slowly breaching him. He groaned as Ben’s body squeezed him tightly, then loosened, welcoming him inside.

Welcomed. Wanted.

Needed.

Ray pressed forward, sliding into Ben, fitting him like his hand fit into a well-worn glove. But Ben wasn’t a glove, wasn’t a blow-up doll. What they had had meant more than that, at least for Ray. And Ben wasn’t a good enough actor to fake what Ray had seen in his eyes, in his face, what he had heard in his voice.

And yet Ben had left.

Ray couldn’t look away from where they were joined, couldn’t stop watching his cock disappear into Ben. He leaned forward, slid his hand around Ben’s hip, gliding his fingers across Ben’s trembling belly to hold Ben’s cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

“Yes,” he whispered, breathing into the soft folds of Ben’s shirt. He smelled of incense and candle wax. Ben’s body was clasped tight and hot around him, his own hand wrapped around Ben’s cock. Inside, outside each other, like one of those moebius strips Ben had shown him once, around and around, one side turning into the other. “Yes.”

Another few strokes and Ben groaned, climaxing into Ray’s hand. The warmth and wet were blessedly familiar, but it was the smell that hit Ray, the smell of sex, sex with Ben, sex with Ben and him, that tightened his gut and sent him flying over the edge.

His head swam as he grunted, hips jerking, filling Ben. “Oh, Jesus.” His hips slowed, stopped. A drop of sweat trailed down his cheek as he panted into Ben’s heaving back. “Oh, Ben.”

“Ray.” Ben’s voice was unsteady. His fingers clutched at Ray’s shirt. “Ray.”

Ray blinked hard. Damned sweat. He wiped his face and carefully pulled free. Ben’s damp shirt was rucked up his back, his bare ass and thighs mottled with red marks from Ray’s fingers. Ray stared at the high collar. A priest. He’d fucked a priest.

Ben swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to leave.”

Ray took a shaky breath. Not a priest. Ben. “Shut up.” Ray pulled up his jeans and tucked himself away.

“Ray, I--”

“Damn it, Ben! Just one word. Would it have killed you to leave me one word?” He fished for the key to the cuffs in his pocket.

Ben sighed. “It would have killed you.” Like he was pointing out the obvious to Dumb Ray.

“Right.” Ray rolled his eyes. Did Ben think he was really that stupid? “Your letters are real poison pen jobs.”

“No, Ray.” Ben sounded exhausted. “I had to leave because your life was in danger.”

“What?” The key hit the carpet. “What do you mean, my life was in danger?” His life had been in danger before--usually from something Ben had done. Why had this time been different? And why the hell was Ray even listening to this?

But at least, a little voice whispered as he retrieved the key, Ben hadn’t left because he’d wanted to.

“Believe me, I didn’t have any choice.” Ben gasped as Ray unlocked his hands, wincing as he lowered his arms to his sides and pushed away from the desk, obviously stiff after being pounded into the mahogany. Ben fumbled his underwear and trousers up his thighs and over his hips, fastened his trousers and carefully tucked in his shirt.

“No choice? Pull the other one.” Ray didn’t believe him. Nope. Not at all.

He put the cuffs into his pocket and looked at Ben’s wrists. Damn. They were red and raw. He lifted one of Ben’s hands, examining the bruised skin closely. Without thinking, he kissed it gently.

Ben touched Ray’s cheek, stroked his jaw. “Ray, if I had had any other choice than to disappear, I would have taken it.” Then Ben dropped his hand and looked at the floor, smoothing the front of his shirt over and over. “And now you must leave.”

What the fuck did Ben mean, leave? Ray had just found him, after searching practically the whole country. “No way I’m going. Whatever’s going on, I can help.”

“Ray, you can best help by getting out of here. Your presence puts the entire operation in jeopardy. If you are seen...” Ben shook his head. “Many lives would be in danger.”

It wasn’t fair. They’d just found each other again and now he had to go? Not happening. “I’ll stay out of sight. They won’t see me.”

“They see everything.” Ben retrieved the desk chair; the back had made a dark smudge on the wall. “That’s why I’ve had to be so careful about contacting you.”

“So you’re left here, all alone, bad guys all around, like... Like Daniel in the lions’ den?”

Ben’s eyebrows rose. Why was he so surprised? Ray had been to Sunday school.

Ray continued, pressing his advantage. “Who’s covering your back, Ben?”

“Only you, Ray.” Ben glanced at the desk and, blushing, slowly ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “But only the way you did tonight. Many people are depending on me to successfully complete my mission. I can’t risk failure because of my own wishes and desires.” He met Ray’s eyes.

Ray didn’t want to believe him. How could he fold so easily? But with Ben standing there, all priested up, regret in his eyes, in his voice, how could he not believe?

He was so fucking whipped. Ray shoved his hands in his pockets. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you everything soon.”

Ben looked tired and sad, like it hurt him to see Ray go as much as it hurt Ray to leave. Fuck. Ray sighed. Whipped. No question. “How soon?”

“I’ll have everything wrapped up within a week, no more than two.”

Ray nodded. He didn’t like it, but if it meant Ben could finish the job, he could wait a week, maybe two. And then he wouldn’t let Ben out of his sight for a year or five.

“I’m staying at the Holiday Inn on Main. Ask for Terry Malloy.”

“Malloy?” The corners of Ben’s lips lifted slightly. “On the Waterfront. Very apropos.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

Ben’s smile widened. “I will now.” He smoothed a finger over his collar.

Ray stopped, his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be in church on Sunday. In the back. In a disguise.”

Ben nodded. “Even if I don’t see you, I’ll know you’re there.”

Ray stepped into the hall and closed the door as Ben’s words followed him.

“Go now, and sin no more.”


End file.
